You Can't Teach an Old Wyrm New Tricks
by in the eyes of the beholder
Summary: October 31st, 1981 marked the day the dark lord was defeated. November 10, 1981 marked the death of Harry Potter. if Harry died in November. then who's trapped in Harry's body? how do the Dragons play into this?
1. Chapter 1

I do not own HP.

"well boy? My breakfast isn't going to cook itself!" the latch on his door slammed shut with a resounding metal clang as the pig man walked away.

Bahamut sighed as he slowly moved into a sitting position. Eleven years, eleven bloody years he's been dealing with the ruddy pig man and his pig family. One day, yes, one day he'd roast the pig man alive and eat him. that's what any other dragon would have done long ago. Unfortunately, Bahamut couldn't do that right now as he had yet to regain his full strength. Hell, he had yet to regain any strength as he was, to busy keeping this fragile body alive. If it died… he shuddered to think what would happen to his soul if it did.

Slowly he got up. stretching malnourished aching muscles and started another day doing the pig family's bidding. Cooking, cleaning, gardening, most of the chores the pig son should be doing really. But alas it wasn't in the cards it seemed. Bahamut had flown through this worlds skys for many millennia. Seen many humans and their strange going ons. At his age nothing much should have surprised him. It did come as a shock however when the pig family had started to force him to into slavery at a young age. From what he understood the neck woman was brood kin to this body's mother. He understood humans fairly well from his own dealings with the fragile beings sure, but this? He wasn't sure what the neck woman's motivations were.

Bahamut was brought out of his thoughts a spoon collided with the back of his head. "pay attention boy! If you burn my bacon, you'll regret it!" his eye twitched, snarling at the man in his mind. Slow roast he decided. Low heat with a touch of honey. That's how he was going to prepare the pig man when he got his body back. Just then the pig son walked in as well. His piggy blue eyes slowly counting out the mound of presents that were on the table.

"thirty-six? That's two less than last year!" the pig son threw a tantrum. The neck woman doing all she could to calm her brood down. Bahamut plated the bacon and eggs he had been overseeing, swiping a few pieces of the cooked pig stomach for himself, and placing it in front of the pig family with the same enthusiasm one fills a trough on a farm. He decided not to stay for the pig sons' tantrum. Opting for the dusty relatively barren solace of the cupboard. He could understand why some people might not want to stay in a dusty cupboard under some stairs.

Bahamut didn't mind it though. He was a dragon after all. Dragons had a preference for caves, though those caves were normally filled with mounds of gold and jewels. Well his old cave was at least, for he was a very, very old dragon. His newer kin preferred to stay bound to their reservations and live lazy care free lives. Bunch of freeloading hippies if you ask him.

He was sure his brother, Hraesvelgr, would be rolling over in his hoard to see his descendants so lazily accepting their lot in life. Well Bahamut would be sure he would if the lazy bastard would ever wake up. though he did wander what his younger siblings were up to these days. He knew Nidhogg was off trying to fight, fuck or kill something or other. Midgardsormr was still swimming and eating and just generally being a glutenous fuck last time he checked.

Yes, the old guard seemed to be forgotten these days. What would father Tiamat say? Well probably nothing, he mused. Tiamat was more the 'beat-you-till-you-got-the-message' sort of god. Bahamut briefly wondered what he'd have to say about his current situation? Trapped in the fragile body of a human child? Disgraceful.

Briefly he overheard the pig man and the neck woman arguing over something or other in the kitchen. Something about the squib woman who always watched him on days like today. He gave it little thought as he closed his eyes and briefly looked inward. He developed this habit long ago when this body was that of an infant. He was checking on this body and the souls inhabiting it. Souls are powerful things. Every creature has one. Some are large, like his. Some are small, like a squirrel. A body is designed to fit a specific size of soul. You can't have more than one soul occupying a body. If this happens one soul would inevitably make the other wither away to nothing. That is exactly what happened when he was stricken of his power and crammed, rather uncomfortably he might add, into the body of a yearling child.

During this time, he was extremely confused and thrashed around within the body trying to force his way out. Bahamut felt slightly guilty at this now. By the time he calmed down the damage was done. The child's soul was damaged and began fading. It would have done this over time of course, his soul was to large for the body to be able to comfortably contain them both, his draconic core and the child's budding magical core. That didn't mean he hadn't felt guilty over it. He spent the next few days as the soul left this plane trying to soothe it and comfort it until it finally ebbed away. All that was left of Harry James Potter was a small ball of magic, the infants core.

Bahamut faintly noted that the pig son's cronies had arrived. He paid them little mind as he looked at the other soul that was STILL here. He noticed it several days after the yearling's soul had vanished. At first, he hadn't known what it was. Less like a soul more like a leech. Black and greasy, evil seeped out of it like a dementor on the hunt. It was latched onto him. Feeding off his soul to keep alive. This he would not allow. So as before he threw another rage filled tantrum in the body. Thrashing and screaming till the leech was thrown off his soul. Bahamut downed it in a sea of draconic magic. He threw everything he had at it. But it. Would. Not. Die! This enraged him every time he looked at the blasted leech. On the bright side, it _had_ eroded over the years. Right now, it looked like a dried-up raisin. this was a good thing, Bahamut supposed, it meant it would be gone sooner than later

Bahamut was torn from his musing as his cupboard door was thrown open by the pig man. "get your coat boy! Ms. Fig can't watch you today so you're coming with us." The pig man grabbed Bahamut by his baggy hand me down shirt. "and if you ruin my dudders special day. You. Will. Regret it." He was tossed violently back against the wall of his room.

 _Great…_ he thought. _A whole day with the pig boy and his goons._ A splitting head ache started to form behind his eyes. He swore he could hear the leech laughing at him.

Hello. So if any of you are/know any good betas. Let me know. I desperately need one. You may be confused as to why a dragon is inhabiting Harrys body. But what would a good story be if showed all my cards in the beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own HP

Bahamut sat in his room at the leaky cauldron with a bemused smile on his face. He played the events of the last few days over again in his mind. All starting when his "letter" from some magic school in the highlands arrived. Toadwarts or some such nonsense.

The day itself was highly unremarkable in its normality. For him it was another day in the hell that was the last few years. It changed when he got the mail. He threw it at the pigman and thought nothing of it until the pigman started screaming about "freakishness". After that they went on "vacation." the letters seemingly following them wherever they went, until they landed an old lighthouse on the anniversary of this body's death. Then a huge half giant came bursting through the door demanding to see him. This had led to even further amusement when he gave the pigson a pig tail. He grinned at this notion. It seemed the fates had a sense of humor after all, old bitchy crones they may be. Shortly after that he had taken him here. To this "diagon alley" place.

This had been an unexpected boon to him. The moment he stepped foot into this place he had almost passed out. He had felt like a man dying of thirst suddenly being drowned in an ocean. Before he was barely able to pull what scraps of ambient magic was in the air into himself. Most of it whent to keeping himself alive. Now, he was pulling it into himself at an unbridled rate. This significantly dialing forward his timetable of getting his body back.

Better still was when the half giant had taken him into the goblin nations bowls to get gold out of his "trust" vault. The moment he saw the gleaming pile he nearly fainted again. All of his dragon instinct told him to go sit on top of his little hoard and kill all those who came close. He almost did to, when the half giant had scooped a hand full of the glimmering coins into a bag. Never noticing the snarl that had made its way onto the Bahamut's face. The goblin did though, to its infinite amusement he was sure.

The real amusement came when it was time to get his wand. The little stick things the wizards used to channel their magic. The wood man, ollivander was a very eccentric wizard. He smelled of death and varnish. The varnish part being from the wands. the death he was quite sure was from the fact the man wasn't really a man at all, but an old gnarled tree spirit in fleshy disguise. They were not a particularly a strong sort but they lived exceedingly long lives. He figured the old spirit had maybe a good hundred years left in him if he was lucky.

The actual process of selecting a wand was a trying and boring process. Most of them either flying out of his hand or exploding when they tried to connect to his draconic core. The old tree being outright shocked when the phoenix feather wand burst into flames before turning into ash in his palm. He left muttering after that and the half giant started to worry. He returned with a white runed box. Taking the white wand from the box and handing it to him. A yellow glow had surrounded him. The wand had "chosen" him. Which bemused him greatly. Fourteen inches, dragon bone with a basilisk fang core. The Old tree said he made it a few centuries back, an experiment in wandlore he said, and never found an owner until today. Something about it trying to kill most of the humans who tried to wield it.

After that, the half giant had taken him to get his robes fitted. During the fitting he had an interesting encounter with a small blond human. Draco something. He rather liked the boy. He had an arrogance around him that Bahamut found amusing. Oh how humans liked to throw their names and titles. It was amusing… well as amusing as an ant mouthing off to a god could get.

After that the half giant had dropped him off at the inn in front of the ally. Looping right back around to his current state of amused reminiscing in his tiny inn room. Deciding that now was a good a time as any to make a visit to the goblin sanctuary bahamut rose from his bed at the inn. Stretching his arms above his head enjoying the myriad of pops his spine and shoulders made. And started making his way out of the inn.

he left the inn and started walking towards the goblin stronghold. There wizards were fools for thinking it was a bank. _Please,_ he mused. _You don't have archers holds and disguised ballistas as decoration._ Though he did take a few minutes to gaze at his surroundings as he made his way towards to the home of the entire goblin nation. The shops that lined the street were a welcome change from the hell of his, (was youth even the right word?) _humble_ beginnings. Their bright colors and entrancing displays made him smile. historically he may have never been that big of a fan of the humans but he couldn't fault them on all that they'd accomplish on their short time in this world.

Reaching his destination he nodded his head at the two guards that stood at the front of the bank and walked into the stronghold head held high and made his way to the teller. The fat ugly thing didn't even look up from his work as he approached. "I need to see my vault please."

"Key?" the gnarled creacher stuck its hand out expectantly.

This annoyed bahamut. This ugly little creature not even acknowledging him. Well to be honest he wouldn't have either in his current form. "I'm afraid the half giant took it with him yesterday. I'll need to have another one made or the original retrieved."

The goblin looked at him with what was probably no small amount of disgust. "Name?"

"Potter" bahamut stated flatly. If he was honest with himself he had only really found his bodys name out a few days ago. The pigman had almost exclusively referred to him as "boy" or "freak."

"One moment" the goblin hopped off his little pedestal and (walked?) wadelled back to behind the counter. A few minutes later he waddled his way back out. "Nailteeth will see you now.

 _Nailteeth? Who in the frozen hells is Nailteeth._ He followed the goblin back behind the counter and down several flights of stairs. Coming to a large door labeled accounts. As well as sever names listed below. Potter, Malfoy, Bones, Greengrass, Nott and several other he didn't care to read.

The goblin, Nailteeth, looked up from his desk as Bahamut walked in. "ah, Mr. Potter. I've been wondering when you would finally come see me. We here at gringotts consider it very rude to when we get no reply when we make the effort to make several inquiries." placing its gnarled hands in front of it. Seemingly so out of place amongst the golden knick knacks scattered around his desk.

"Inquiries?" he arched his brow. "What inquiries?" he sat down in front of the old goblins desk in one of the high backed leather chairs obviously placed there for those much larger than the creature that was currently regarding him as one regards rotted meat.

Nailteeth gave him a sharp look. "I take it you never received our letters concerning your inheritance?"

"No." Bahamut crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in the chair. Regarding the goblin much the same as he was. "I was unaware i even had an inheritance until just a few days ago. Even then, i was unable to properly examine the vault as the half breed had made an effort to deny me access by taking my vault key with him."

The goblin narrowed his eyes at him, not being one to back down Bahamut leveled his stare at the creature. The goblin slammed his book shut, startling the old wyrm. "Follow me, Mr. potter."


	3. Chapter 3

A quick word before the story. I saw a review on the last chapter that said i should mark this as a crossover with final fantasy. This is not a crossover with any other work of fiction. It's kind of an exploratory story. I don't see a lot of fics on here that deal with other forms of magic and myth. So im trying to create something new-ish using some established tropes.

I don't own HP

After his rather quick introduction to his accounts manager, Bahamut was becoming increasingly aware of one particular aspect of his new existence. He _hated_ paperwork. He honestly thought the little creature was trying a discrete new technique for tearing someone's wrist off. Seriously, how many properties and holdings had this body's family owned. Houses in America, India, Egypt _and_ France. Companies and patents held or started by great grandpa who-the-fuck-cares. When the short bastard had finally finished he felt exhausted and drained.

"Now, then." Nailteeth said as he straightened and finalized the last of those damnable documents. "There's one last item on the agenda." the old goblin straightened up before hopping off his high chair. "If you'll follow me we shall head down to your family vault to retrieve your head of house ring."

"Hooray…" Bahamut muttered as he followed the goblin out the door.

Soon after he found himself zooming along in a rickety old cart down tracks that seemed to have been laid by the world's most inebriated group of circus clowns. That would have to be the only explanation of the logic of whatever brain dead _thing_ that thought it would be a good idea to have a transportation system made like this!

Soon enough, though not as soon as he would have prefered, the cart gently came to a stop at its final destination, grateful for the now lack of motion. While very _ungrateful_ for loss of his lunch over the side of the tracks. Silver lining though was the very indignant scream he heard after a few seconds of losing said lunch. It seemed whatever power put him here might have a sense of humor after all.

"This way Mr. Potter." the goblin lead him towards a his vault. Which after regaining his head and balance and following the old creature was a very anticlimactic experience. The two large stone doors that greeted him were not really what he was expecting. "One moment please." the goblin reached into his sleeve before withdrawing a small ornate golden key and inserting it into the lock. A musical of clicks and locking mechanisms clicking and moving could be heard afterwards. All-in-all, it was surprisingly pleasant to the ears.

Bahamut let out a low whistle as the doors parted and he began his trek into the vault. High arched ceilings and caverns of priceless ancient artifacts and piles of gold greeted his eyes. Painting he was sure he saw in art books and museums littered the walls, unlike there stationary counterpart these all moved and made soft sounds as he passed them. Their occupants gossipping and pointing as he passed. Though none seemed in any particular mood to talk _to_ him, just about him. So he ignored them and followed the little creature deeper into the vault. Nailteeth, was leading him back towards a back corner of the chamber. Where two rings sat in a marble pedestal, right besides what looked like a recreation of a large study. Various papers and books were strewn across the large redwood desk that sat at its center.

"wonder what a child doin' 'ere?" Bahamut stopped dead in his tracks at that _voice_. He took a small sniff of the air. The smell of decay and fresh dirt struck him. It was so very faint. But it was there. "why e' stop?" the voice mused. "De little green mon say somethin' perhaps?" he started walking again. Ignoring the voice, for now, and catching up with Nailteeth.

The goblin stopped in front of the pedestal before reaching and grabbing one of the rings. The creature did and abrupt 'about face and handed him the ring. "Put that on and you'll be officially recognized as lord Potter." nodding Bahamut slipped the ring on his finger and waited. After a few boring seconds the goblin nodded its' shriveled head. Apparently satisfied with the outcome. "Will there be anything else, lord Potter?"

"No." came his short reply. "Would you mind leaving me for awhile? I feel like taking a look at these books" he said, while walking over to the old desk.

"Of course" and with that the goblin left, sealing the door as he went.

Bahamut waited until he heard the last lock slide into place before whipping around to face the direction of the voice. In truth he was expecting, well, death. Not who ever this was. The dark skinned man stood in the corner of the room. His face and lips painted white to resemble a skull. A loose black pinstripe suit adorned the man. Though it looked worn and disheveled it denoted some meger sense of importance. Three animal teeth hung from a necklace and a top hat with a flask of some kind strapped to it sat neatly on his head. What struck Bahamut most was the blood red of his eyes and the python that was swung carlesly about his neck. The beasts eyes the same striking color of of its master.

 _How strange_ , bahamut thought as he approached the man. You never see true spirits anymore. Just those weird memory echos that tried to pass themselves off as ghosts. Sure they were good at fooling the humans but they were basically worthless. Not like this though. This thing had power, real tangible power. He could use that.

There was a stand with a book sitting next to the spirit. He walked over to it and flipped it open. "Oh? De little mon takkin' a interest in old Samedi? To bad 'e can't hear me or see me." the spirit, apparently called Samedi, mused to himself. Samedi began to circle Bahamut looking him over with great interest. "Been abused, no doubt. Can' hide de bruises from Ghede eye's" Samedi frowned deeply. "Maybe if he takes da ring i can find out who did dis' an throw a few curses der' way. "

A vain twitched on Bahamut's head as he slammed the book shut. "Do you mind?" he leveled a glare at Samedi. "I'm trying to read here."

Samedi jaw nearly hit the floor as reared back from Bahamut. "You can see me!" it was more of a statement than a question. "You can hear me, to?" Samedi's mouth hung agape in that moment.

"Yes, i can see you." Bahamut turned back to the book. "So, tell me, what's a spirit of the grave doing in a vault in London?" leisurely turning a page.

It took a second for Samedi to pick his jaw up off the floor. "Bound." he said. "To de ring." as he pointed to the ornate silver ring that sat innocently on a pillow on top of a marble pillar a few feet away. "How can you see me?" Samedi asked, perplexed.

"Human eyes are so… primitive. Wouldn't you agree?" Bahamut glanced back at Samedi. His eyes glowing a faint green as he pushed a spark of draconic magic into them. "Can't see what's in front of them unless they really open them."

Nooshoak: you can breathe now.

Theawsomest5: much review, many thanks. Wow

Sandstorm25555: i know i stole some names from Final Fantasy but it's not a crossover. Final Fantasy has a lot of roots in actual mythology, they make for great reads.

Jzraael: i look forward to writing the rest but my schedule only gives me small increments of free time to write.


	4. Chapter 4

I don't own HP.

Xx

Alright, so maybe asking some random voodoo spirit to look at your soul could, **perhaps** , have been classified as a bad idea. Sure the man had been, to put it lightly, mildly traumatized by seeing a fraction of his true form, but he was a big boy. He could get over it… right? In any case, that brought them to right now. Sitting in a couple of high backed chairs in the middle of a huge vault, kilometers below london, nursing a couple of glasses of an amber colored alcohol he had found near the desk in the far corner of the room. Ogdens firewater, or something to that effect. Damn good stuff to. "So…" came the voice of the spirit to his right, breaking Bahamut out of his thoughts. "You're a…"

"Yes"

"Trapped in a…"

Bahamut hummed in an affirmative way.

"An' ya got no idea…"

Bahamut sighed before standing up and running a hand through his messy black hair. "Not a one, mate." he turned to the dark skinned spirit. "You know you're the first person…" he paused, "spirit… thing, i've told since it became stuck in this…" he gestured to his body in contempt. "I have to say, it feels a little refreshing."

Samedi took a long drink from his glass of fire whiskey, a look of deep thought on his face. Bahamut wasn't actually sure how he was drinking considering the man had no physical body to speak of, but small amounts of liquid disappeared every time he took a pull from his glass. He eyed Bahamut for a minute then shook his head. "I don' tink i can help 'ere. Got plenty o' a old an powerful hoodoo spells an' rituals floatin around me 'ead. But none come close ta bindin' somtin' like you. fuck.a"

Bahamut scowled before he plopping down in his chair once again. "I didn't expect you to." he took another pull from his firewhiskey. "So what about you? How'd a voodoo - what did you call yourself again?"

"Loa"

"Right. So how did a Voodoo loa, end up here of all places?" Bahamut looked expectantly at the minor godling.

"You see dat fucken man over dere. Da one snoozen in his portrait?" he gestured to the wall of sleeping portraits. Specifically to one resting on the floor. Its occupant could be an older sibling to this body. It makes sense since it's probably an ancestor of it. "Name o' Chalus Potter." he said the name with as much disdain as he could muster. "Man comes into my graveyard during a voodoo ritual. Notin serious jus' good people tryin' win favor wit us. One of da few times we get to experience real life is when we mount a person. Well, 'ere come brave little charlus, sticken 'is nose where it don' fucken belong."

 _no_ , Bahamut thought, _he's not bitter at all._

"Tinks' we're dark spirits or sometin'. Starts droppin ma priests an followers like dere flys. legba, starts usherin us back to our realm. It's slow, de gap between our fucken worlds aint dat big. Starts shoutin' spells den, BAM!" Samedi slams his hand down on his knee. " i wake up here. Bound to dat old iron ring. Can' touch de dam ting'."

Bahamut stood and walked to the ring in question. He picked it up and examined it. On the surface it looked like any commonplace iron band. On closer inspection into the inside of the ring there were intricately woven, interconnected jumble of old celtic and norse runes. Widening his gaze into the ethereal spectrum revealed further runes carved into the surface of the ring. He scowled at this. Right at the heart of the array was a rune not written in celtic or norse, but draconic. A powerful binding rune originally used to bind the more… rambunctious elemental spirit. "Look here." he pointed to the rune as Samedi walked over. "See this rune?"

"No."

Bahamut arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really." Samedi replied in a dry tone. Bahamut sighed at this before explaining to the old spirit what was engraved on the ring. Needless to say Samedi wasn't thrilled with the news. "So what do ya tink' it means? Can' be a coincidence. Can' it?."

"Maybe." bahamut scratched his chin. "I mean draconic isn't exactly a common language. it's also not a language many humans know. They think we're mindless beasts. I mean the young drakes are. But not the ancients or the adults. But for a **human** to learn… it's a feat i'll admit that." he shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Draconic runes are powerful and old. Not powerful enough to bind me. You, easily." he gestured to samedi. "There are only about three older languages. Primordial, sylvan and celestial. I doubt sylvan could. Fey creatures usually never bound anything to my knowledge. Celestial, definitely could, but there's not a being in the world who could even comprehend that language. Myself included. " He paused in thought for a few minutes. " i never even thought to check for primordial magics. I was too preoccupied with being trapped."

Baron Samedi was silent for a awhile. Taking in and digesting new information about magics that were, to put it mildly, far beyond his reach and understanding. He honestly thought himself a fairly powerful loa. Being a master of death was nothing to scoff at after all. But in light of information that made his powers seem like baby's' first necromancy was… unsettling.

Sensing the tension in the room. Samedi decided that now was as good a time as any for a smoke. Took off his hat and produced a cigar from it and bit off the end, before snapping his finger, a small flame igniting from his thumb, and lit it. Bahamut didn't seem to notice or if he did did not comment on the now smoking loa. They sat in comfortable silence for a time before bahamut stood and took to studying the ring, again. "So tell me, how long after i put this ring on are you going to try and possess me?" he asked, eyeing the runes on the outside of the ring.

Samedi laughed. A loud full bodied laugh that echoed around the chamber. "Me friend, i couldn't possess ya on ma best day and your worst. Also we call it **mounting,** not possessing." the old loa walked over to Bahamut and put a hand on his shoulder. "So? Ya gonna bust me out o' ma prison."

Bahamut shrugged before slipping the ring on his finger. Satisfied after a few seconds of nothing he put his hands on his pockets before heading for the vault door, and the sour faced goblin that awaited him outside and a madly grinning loa behind him.

Xx

Quick A/N

Samedi's speech patterns are going away. I thought it was a good idea at the time and i was wrong. Also sorry for short chapter but i'll trying and correct that in the future.

DarkPhoenix332: thank you for your review.

Harrington21: thank you for your words of encouragement,


	5. Chapter 5

I don't own HP

Xx

Bahamut stepped out into diagon alley deep in thought. While he realized it wasn't impossible for the magicals of humanity to know the various runes and secrets of the draconic language, it was however very improbable. While younger more aggressive dragons hoarded their shiny trinkets and gold. Older dragons tended to be less obsessed with the material. Leaning more towards hoarding something far more valuable. Knowledge. Contrary to the belief of humans dragons didn't actually live that long. Not because they were not naturally long lived creatures, no. it lent more to the fact of dragons being very territorial and aggressive beasts when young. Dragons often died before they reached full maturity. Either killed by tamers and hunters or killed by more aggressive dragons. It's the older dragons you have to watch out for. The ones that aren't mindless beasts. The ones who can speak are the most dangerous of his kind. Comparing a dragon of a few hundred years to a dragon of a thousand was like comparing a chicken to a phoenix. Still he couldn't figure out why one would actually teach draconic to a human.

Come to think of it, he could have just asked the portrait of charlus potter how he came to know even a sliver of draconic… _son of a bitch_. He quickly turned to head back into the bank. Just as he was turning the white marble door of the goblin fortress slammed shut before him, coincidentally slamming into his nose in the process. Cursing rather colorfully for his body's age he fell back and onto the hard cobble of the street below. Letting out another rather undignified yelp as a foot slammed into his ribs and screaming girl fell across his middle, her knee colliding rather painfully with his stomach. Samedi, who was off to the side aways basking in the evening sun for the first time in decades burst out laughing at the site of the two children sprawled out on the ground.

The girl, to her credit, wasn't crying as she rolled off him and clutched her knee. Not the one that had slammed into his stomach, but the one that had collided with the street next to his stomach after she tripped over him. Her eyes were screwed shut though, small tears were gathered at the edges but refused to fall. Bahamut was fine though, it didn't hurt as much as he thought it would have. He was kind of reveling in the pain a bit. It had been years since he had actually felt pain. Not that he forgot what it felt like, just that his original body dealt with pain much more efficiently than the human body did.

Bahamut stood, brushing off the dirt from his clothes before turning to the girl. She was about his body's age with long blond hair and soft features but with only a little baby fat around her cheeks. "Are you ok?" he asked. Truthfully he didn't much care if she was or not. But he figured that's what a boy his body's age would ask. So he pretended to be concerned.

"Obviously not." came her cold but pained reply.

Bahamut let out a small sigh. This was going to be a fun conversation, he could already tell. "Let me have a look." he knelt down in front of the girl. Before gently grabbing her wrists and prying them off her knee. The girl only protesting slightly, in the process. The thought of breaking her wrists and really giving the human something to cry about flitted briefly through his mind but he decided against it. It would draw to much attention. Besides, nothing good would come of anyone knowing his secret. Not that they would believe him anyway.

The scrape on the girls knee wasn't that bad anyway. Sure it was bleeding profusely, but that's what shallow cuts did… he thinks, well he used to, but what he considered minor injury and what humans considered minor where two vastly different extremes. "It's not that bad, hold still." he grabbed above her knee and pulled out his wand. The girl narrowed her eyes at him, not quite trusting him. With a small flick and some mumbled gibberish he poured some magic into her knee through his hand. The skin knitted back together and the blood vanished. He would never understand why humans used their little bits of wood to perform magic. It was just as easy to push magic out from ones skin as it was to wave a stick about. Faster as well. "See all better now." he stood intent on walking away but the girl had stopped him by standing up and grabbing his sleeve.

"Wait." she said. He turned back and leveled an indifferent stare at the girl. she stared back with a determined look in her eyes. "What was that spell." it was a demand, not a question. That he was sure. Bahamut narrowed his eyes at this. Who was this girl to order him around? Then he smirked. Deciding to have a bit of fun with the human.

"It was the… " Bahamut mumbled some more gibberish just loud enough so that she would hear him but not be able to make out any actual words. "spell. "

he began to walk away again but she grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face her. she looked positively livid which amused Bahamut greatly. Just as the girl opened her mouth to give him what he was sure was going to be a thorough reaming a mans shadow passed over both of them.

"Daphne." the man said. The girl, apparently called Daphne, froze mid sound. "That's no way to repay the boy who just helped you." Daphne let go of his shirt, cold fury etched her features as she looked away from his face in slight embarrassment. "I'm sorry about that." the man, who he suspected was the girls father, addressed him. The man looked to be in about his mid 30's with black hair and keen eyes. "Daphne has a bit of short fuse." he offered Bahamut his hand. "Thomas Greengrass."

Bahamut eyed the man for a second. Thomas, to his credit, didn't waver under his gaze. Then he realized that for all intents and purposes, he **was** just an eleven year old child trying to stare down an adult male twice his current size. He also decided against trying to figure out if he could use his breath magic to incinerate the man. Now was not the time to try and breath fire. Bahamut reached out and took the proffered hand. "Potter." he said. "Harry Potter."

He also didn't fail to notice the flash of instant recognition in the man's' eyes. While he had been somewhat paying attention to his surroundings he had noticed that when people heard his bodys name they tended to react with shock and awe. It was almost like he was famous or something. Though to Thomas's credit he hid it well. "And on that note. I think i'll be going." for the second time he turned to leave only to stop and stare at Samedi. The Loa was rather blatantly staring down the front of a rather buxom witches low cut blouse and grinning like a madman. The absurdity of it made him grin as well. He guessed he might rather act the same if he had spent the last 60 odd years trapped in a vault underground.

He shook his head and attempted to continue walking, only to be stopped again by said buxom witch walking into his path. The street, he realized, was becoming crowded as the afternoon crowd came spilling from shops and workers from offices. So Bahamut decided to side step into a sweet smelling shop about halfway between the bank and the inn he was staying at. Fortescue's Ancient Iced Cream adorned the front of the store in old faded gold trim. It was a rundown place, to be fair most of the ally was old and rundown, but Fortescues's was one of the older businesses on the street if the facade was anything to go by. So Bahamut opened the door and stepped inside the old shop.

Xx

I'll leave it there for today. Also i haven't decided if i'm going to use the classic Daphne ice queen motif or go for something else. Someone messaged me about pairings but i don't think i'll do any pairings for a long time, if i do them at all.

Theawsomest5: thank you for your review.

Flubbersthefat: it's not really a new concept. Just going for something different.

DarkPhoenix332: thanks for reviewing again. It means a lot.

Guest: i think it's pretty sweet as well.


	6. Chapter 6

I don't own HP

 _Xx_

 _Fire. Pain. Fear. these were all he knew. The fire was his form. Unbound and burning everything in its fury. The pain was born from his fire. As it consumed and burned new, old flames sizzled and died._ _ **He**_ _died... and was reborn over and over again. From that death came his fear. The fear of the void, of the glimpses of nothingness that lied beyond. So he fought to control his flames. Desperately seeking a new form. A desire to contain his fire. From that desire birthed flesh. His flesh, his fury, his pain and fear all condensed into a shell of everburning flesh. He rose then. A mass of primordial fire and fury given basic form. He gazed upon his domain for the first time. His flames still raged, desperately trying to consume everything as fuel, but they quelled at his beck and call._

 _Then he saw him. Niddhog, struggling to pull his form from the scorched earth. A mass of broken rock and liquid earth. He saw his flames trying to consume his… his what? He had no idea at the time but quelled his flames away from Nidhoggs form all the same. Giving him just enough time to find solidity in his shape. Then Nidhogg joined him. together they looked up to see their two siblings Hraesvelgr and Midgardsormr writhing in pain in the air as they tried to separate their forms as air and steam clashed for dominance of the skys. Once again he drew more flames into his body cooling their new domain just enough for Midgardsormr to fall from the sky and condense into his liquid form. The pain returned as Midgardsormr fell, cooling his form into charred flesh._

Bahamut's eyes snapped opened as he felt the hand on his shoulder shake him again. He turned to stare at the face of the bushy brown haired girl who had been shaking him. She looked concerned, as did the two adults standing behind her. He also noticed that the greengrass girl and her family stood behind them with equally worried expressions on their faces, the large breasted woman and a smaller clone of daphne seemed to have joined the duo as well. Samedi stood behind them with a raised eyebrow and confused look on his face. "Are you alright?" asked the bushy haired girl.

Where was he again? Bahamut glanced around and noted the rustic interior of the ice cream shop. He was a bit hazy but be remembered walking in and ordering an ice cream bowl. And then… and then… pain shot through his back and he remembered what happened as he nearly lost consciousness again. Damn this fragile body and its inability do deal with the slightest inconvenience. Slowly he stood, being careful not to jostle himself to much. "I'm fine." came his pained response and tried for a hasty retreat towards the door, only to be stopped by the elder Greengrass.

"Maybe you should see a healer? We'd be happy to take you as soon as we find your guardian." well that wouldn't do. Bahamut had an idea as to why he was in pain. A healer, if they were anything like the "doctors" the neck woman had taken him to, would ask to many questions and he was thoroughly full on his nosy mortal quota today.

"Sorry, no. i just need a bit of rest and i'll be fine." once again Bahamut tried to push past the older male and succeeded much to the protest of the bushy haired girl and her parents.

Bahamut made his was hastily down the street. Samedi was being pulled along as he was still bound to the ring on his finger. The pain in his back was growing worse. All the ambient magic he's been pulling into his body was speeding up his timetables from a few centuries to a few decades. Which was good and bad for him. Good because it would mean less time being stuck in this weak body. Bad because his he changed to fast he'd be discovered. Bahamut didn't want to be poked and prodded at by the humans until he was strong enough to roast them and escape.

Human's were such a nosy species. Bahamut could feel their presence as they followed behind him. This bothered him. Why wouldn't they leave him alone? What was it that made mortals so fond of this body? His vision clouded as the pain struck him again. The room, if he could just make it to the room. Bahamut bolted through the door of the inn at the entrance to the alley. The barman tried to get his attention but bahamut ignored him and hurried up the stairs. He spared a glance back to see Daphne hot on his heels. Not good. He figured he had a few minutes at most before he blacked out form the pain.

Fate seemed determined to be the precocious bitch Bahamut knew she was. Just as he was about to cross the threshold of his room Daphne grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face her for what felt like the third time that day. Bahamut growled, he realized his mistake the moment he felt his vocal cords tear, his control slipped, his magic had bleed from his core.

Daphne snapped her hand back when she heard him growl at her. It was a quiet sound, more a low warning sound than anything else. Then a fear shot through her as she backed away. A fear unlike any she had ever felt in her brief life. Harry's eyes stared her down. The overwhelming need to run consumed her but her feet were frozen in place, her legs felt like lead.

Harry slammed the door in her face. Daphne was left frozen and blinking at the mass of wood. The fear slowly ebbed away. Her knees shaking she sank to the floor, _What was that?_ That fear she felt when she grabbed him, where had that come from? _And that… that Growl?_ He had growled at her like an animal. Then his eyes. When he had looked at her his eyes weren't the shade of green she had seen earlier in the day. One was slitted red while the other was bloodshot to an absurd degree,

Daphne snapped her head towards the door as she heard a scream of pain. She got to her feat again her hand reaching for the door noob but stopped as he scream turned into an animalistic roar. She turned on her heel and ran. As she turned the corner of the hall the noise stopped abruptly and a deathly silence followed. Not daring to look back she ran as fast as her legs would carry her. Hoping to find her father and mother as soon as possible. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

Xx

Guest: i don't think i've had anything of mine ever described as "Fabulous" but i thank you for your review.

Harrington21: like i said last time. I don't know about parrings yet. but yeah. Daphne and Harry have always been like a guilty pleasure pairing for me as well.


	7. Chapter 7

I don't own HP

Xx

Bahamut groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. something struck him as rather odd. It appeared, to him at least, that someone had decided to smash his head in with a large gold brick wrapped in a bit of lemon. An altogether not unpleasant sensation and one he was quite sure he felt before a decade or two prior when a strange man had offered him a drink at a party in… well he didn't remember exactly where. The difference between now and then he noted was that back then the sensation had only happened once and it was quite thrilling. Now that he was seemingly being assaulted repeatedly by the sensation entirely located in his skull, back and stomach, he decided that he rather hated the sensation.

After a few minutes of feeling sorry for himself bahamut decided to see if he could move any part of his body. A few pathetic attempts at thrashing his arms later he had managed to crawl over the bed and, after what he considered a titanic effort, pulled himself up and onto it.

"You burnt a hole in the floor." a voice somewhere to his left stated in a rather bored tone. Bahamut looked to his left to see a rather annoyed looking elderly wizard lounging by the window of his room smoking a cigar and drinking what appeared to be, or at least smelled like, rum… smelled like. Smelled. Like. he muled the two words around his tongue for a minute. Something was off. But why was it off? That was the question. He sniffed. A myriad of smells assaulted his senses. Cigar smoke, alcohol, sweat, bile, human waste, charred wood and cloth, magic… it was in that moment that his brain caught up with the rest of his body. He could smell the magic in the air. A feat he had not been able to do for eleven long years, trapped in the body of prepubescent human child.

Pain erupted across his temple as the glass struck his head. It shattered on impact and sent shards of tiny crystal scattering across his bed. "What the hell?" he yelled at the man. The vision in his left eye blurred as the blood pooled.

"You burnt a damn hole in the floor! That's what!" the old wizard yelled back.

"Who the hell are you?" he growled

"Who do you think, you brat." the old wizard shot back.

Bahamut narrowed his one good eye at the man. He expanded his sight to look at the mans magic. "Samedi?" he asked in a tepid tone. The man grinned before pouring himself another glass of rum and downing it on one shot.

"Got it in one, you scaly prick." the apparent spirit turned old wizard said.

"What the hell happened to you?" Bahamut asked

"Oh this?" he gestured at himself. "Borrowed him from the next room."

"You borrowed… a mortal." Bahamut stated rather nonplussed.

"Yeah. honestly, if it weren't for the fact that this guy like his liquor and cigars i don't think it could have." Bahamut cocked an eyebrow on the uninjured side of his face. "Ah right, remember how i said i couldn't mount you, even on my best day?" Bahamut narrowed his eye at the word mount, Samedi laughed at this. "When a loa possess a human we call it 'mounting'" that made sense in some context he was sure he was ignorant of.

"Ok, so you borrowed this guy from the next room because?" Bahamut asked.

"You nearly burned down the whole damn inn with your little episode."

"Episode?"

"Episode" Samedi nodded. "There you were. Rolling around on the ground bleating like a stuck goat when you just started vomiting fire and bile all over place." Samedi waved a hand dramatically. "Screaming like someone set you on fire. What was i supposed to do? Let you scare the whole damn alley? So i popped into the next room, mounted this guy and threw up as many silencing and fireproofing charms as i could."

Bahamut groaned as he fell back onto the bed. This, he quickly realized, was a mistake. The moment he touched the mattress white hot pain flashed across his back and he jumped out of bed arching his back at the pain. He roughly discarded his already burnt, sweat soaked shirt and turned to look at his back in the reflection of the mirror in the corner. Bahamut's blood ran cold at the sight. Samedi promptly died laughing.

Xx

Bahamut barely registered what the half giant was saying to him as they made their way across kings cross station. too preoccupied with the annoying voodoo spirit laughing hysterically as it followed them around. Part of him, the part that held millennia of draconic pride, arrogance and instinct, wanted to torch the bastard then use his wings to spread his ashes as a warning. _My wings…_ he thought distastefully. His wings used to be a source of pride for him. They used to be large, magnificent, dazzling, awe inspiring, powerful, set of perfect dragon wings but now they were, well, pathetic. Two perfectly pathetic pairs of chicken wings rested on his shoulder blades and lower back tucked securely against his skin.

Samedi was floating behind him, a grin splitting his painted face. Boisterous laughter echoed around them. Laughter that only he could hear. A low growl escaped Bahamut's lips before he could stop it. A low gutteral noise that made the half giant stop suddenly and look around confused and slightly nervous. One of the benefits of his little surprise puberty his body's vocal cords and throat could handle draconic speech, or to the layman's, his growls and roars. Bahamut stopped and looked back at the half giant as well as glancing around the their vicinity. Several people around them appeared to be imitating a confused pack of meerkats, heads twisting this way and that. "Hagrid?" he asked. "Something the matter?"

Hagrid looked back at him. Confusion evident in his beady eyes. "Di' you uh… hear tha'?"

"Hear what?" Bahamut arched his eyebrow.

"Nothin', nothin'." hagrid shook his head. "Coulda' swore i hear'... any whey." he reached into the oversized pockets of his equally oversized moleskin coat and producing a ticket. Bahamut briefly wondered where they even found enough moles to make such a coat before realizing that was probably just the name of the material. " 'ere you are. Yer' ticket to the express." and just like that the half giant turned on his heal and disappeared. A feat considering his size and, from what Bahamut saw, complete lack of magical control… and subtlety if the alarmed faces of a few of the surrounding mortals were any indication.

Bahamut wandered aimlessly around the platform between the numbers nine and ten railways, the ticket on his hand said nine and three quarters. A completely ridiculous number for a train platform but far be it for him to criticize mortals and their strange ways, magical or not. Finally after a full whole fifteen minutes of wandering. He came across an archway pretending to be a wall. He could tell this was the place he was supposed to be. Considering it was between platforms nine and ten and the only bit of magic in an entirely mundane space. He shook his head at the absurdity of the situation before casually walking through the archway pretending to be a wall.

To say that the hogwarts express and its platform was underwhelming was an overstatement. The big red steam engine was a sight to behold for sure, if he was anyone else that was. He understood why this was necessary and what actual purpose of it held. It was a ploy, a con on the soon to be students to try and portray magic as something greater than it was. Well at least the magic the mortals had access to. No all this bravado and distraction was great and all but the true greatness of this place wasn't in the magnificent marvel of mundane and magical engineering the was the hogwarts express but in the construction and engineering of the platform itself.

Bahamut shifted his eyes into the higher spectrum and gazed around the platform. He knew it would give him a splitting headache, as spatial distortions and anomalies always did, but it was worth it. To see the magic bulge, bubble and distort the space around them to accommodate an entire train station into the area the size of a pillar was astounding. The way the magic anchored itself to the surrounding stone work, ancient words of power, binding and reinforcement was the true sight to behold. Something was off though. This place… these wards, anchors and runes were old, older than this place by a few centuries at least. Sure he could see the newer wards. They were very distinct from the older ones. The newer ones gave off a brighter tone than the old ones. The old ones still shined but with almost a dusty, dulled hued. Like the difference between old and new brass. just look for the petina, wards and old magics were just the same.

Bahamut was brought out of his thoughts as he was almost run over by a whole clan of red headed mortals. He glared at the brood mother of the clan though she didn't pay him any mind. He sighed, deciding that since his day, not to mention migraine, wasn't going to get any better. He might as well go find a cozy spot on the train. Preferably one with a warding against mortals and annoying spirits.

Xx

Sachaelle: thank you for the review.

A/n hello! Been a while, entirely my fault for the lack of updates. No excuses here. Also, shout out to the like fifty random people in india who follow my fic. I know that seems random but i thought that was interesting.


	8. Chapter 8

I don't own HP

Xx

Bahamut was annoyed. An all not to unfamiliar feeling for him. Not only had his migraine gotten worse, but he couldn't even find a compartment warded against mortals and pesky voodoo spirits. It was on such occasions as these that Bahamut wondered what he had done to anger the fates in such a way that they would continuously torture him in such small, but no less annoying fashions. It was also on these occasions that he remembered exactly what he had done to anger the fates in such a way. Needless to say it involved a goat, a case of mistaken identity, and a pack of satyrs. Clotho and her two bitch sisters still haven't forgiven him. Neither had the goat for that matter, but he had ate the goat several days later so its forgiveness wasn't very high on his list of priorities.

Finally after a few minutes of being gawked at as he searched for an empty compartment he found one, settled in and haphazardly threw his trunk onto the rack above him. Samedi floated up to the rack opposite his and stretched out like the great burden he was.

This was nice Bahamut supposed. Go to the magic school, blend into the crowds under the assumed identity of Harry Potter. Bide his time until he could regain his true form. Rut with anything on two legs once his body reached maturity. Man had to have his priorities after all. Then find who or what ever was responsible for binding him into this body and rip them apart and bath in their blood. Then bring them back to life and do it again… and again… and again… and again… "oi…." if he closed his eyes he could almost taste the sweet iron on his tongue. "hey…" The feeling of his claws as they ripped through flesh. "HEY!" the yell shook him from his fantasy.

"What" he ground out glaring up at the spirit. Samedi casually gestured to the door. There in the door, looking like he had seen death, was one of the redheads from the platform. The boy was white as bone and staring at Bahamut with large frightened eyes. "What?" he asked again, a little more confused. The boy, to his credit, didn't immediately soil himself. A credit to his species, he was sure. Instead opting to run away like a coward. "What just happened?" he asked Samedi.

"You were grinnin' like a lunatic." Sanedi informed him. "Also your magic slipped a bit."

Ah, that explained it. Humans, especially those sensitive to magics, like wizards and witches, could sense magic inherently even if they are unconcious of it. His magic was different from theres on a fundamental level. Primordial magics was a very raw form of magic. Hard to contain and deadly if not contained or channelled properly. He knew the humans used primordial magic as a sort of amplifier to certain spells and rituals. That's all he knew really. The last human he had discussed this with died several decades prior after an unfortunate smelting accident. Pity, he was a good lad. When humans felt primordial magics they usually felt fear, they didn't understand it, but they could feel the danger in it, which was probably why the boy had run. Primordial magic was what he primarily channelled and used before he and his brother created draconic as a less taxing form of magic. To others it was like playing with dynamite, but him it was like molding harmless clay… well, blasting clay, but still clay.

He was brought out of his thoughts as the train have a great joult and started to slowly lumber its way out of the station. He felt the magics of the platform pass over him like a sheet of cold air as they crossed the boundary at the edge of the station and were transported to the outer limits of london to begin there trek to the school. It was an impressive bit of spatial displacement. He'd put money on the children of the train not even noticing. After all, the non-magical humans were anything but as stupid as the magicals thought they were. What was that old saying? He had heard it a lot as this body had matured. "One of these things is not like the other." a huge bright red steam engine chugging through london was probably not the most conspicuous mode of transportation.

Soon though, the little villages, fields and vast swatches of greenery that made up the british countryside passed slowly by the window. A quiet snore rumbled from samedis' rack as the spirit slept. Bahamut leaned his head against the cool glass of the window and basked, as he often did in moments like these, in the peace. Absentmindedly he lazily shifted his gaze into a higher spectrum of sight to watch the feywilds as they passed through the country. Everything seemed to distort for a moment before the land took on an overgrown and ethereal quality to it. The grass grew taller, the trees thicker and healthier. The fey themselves flitted around the sky and flora with unrestrained abandon. Satyrs danced and sang in fields. Faires flew and fluttered in intricate patterns around the sky. Lumbering ents walking wherever their feet took them. The massive forms of the fey guardians towering above all, able to travel kilometers in a single stride. He loved the feywilds. It was always so peaceful and a great place to nap if one so chose. Sure they hated him because he had a pension to set things on fire just by existing but could you really blame him? It was just his nature. He smiled at his own joke,

"So it's true what they're saying. Harry Potter really is on the train." Bahamut sighed. Today was going to be a long day. He turned towards the door of the compartment. There in the doorway stood a blond boy about his body's age flanked by two half ogres. This surprised him. He hadn't expected to see to many half breeds in the magical world. The half giant was already a shook. The blond boy looked at him, almost expectantly. Bahamut arched an eyebrow.

"Uh… yeah, i'm Harry Potter. How do you know me exactly?" Bahamut asked.

The blond boy gave him an incredulous look. "You're famous. That's how." his body was famous? Nobody had told him that. The blond boy strolled into the compartment and sat down completely uninvited, his apparent bodyguards followed suit. Bahamut twitched at this but the blond boy didn't notice. "I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy." Draco held out a hand for Bahamut. He decided not comment on the boys name. Mortals always had such funny names anyway.

Bahamut eyed the hand before shaking it. "We've meet already, actually."

Malfoys eyes widened slightly. "Really where?"

"Robe shop. Madame Milkens i think." Bahamut said. "You were talking about "their kind," "half breeds," and "servants" if i'm remembering right."

"Oh i remember now!" Draco said excitedly. "You were there with the half giant." Bahamut nodded then glanced at the two hulking half ogres. Seeing this Malfoy said. "Oh this is Crabbe." he gestured to the one on his left. "And Goyle." the half ogres grunted in response. A wholly not uncommon sound to humans, but an entire language to ogres. Those two grunts where almost entire books to the ogres. They could have been discussing poetry, philosophy, art anything within the space of a single noise. A truly beautiful and nuanced language that the world was better for having. He was sure that if he could speak it then he would be better for it as well. Or they could just be brain dead. Bahamut wasn't really sure.

He grunted at the two boys. Crabbe and Goyle gave him strange looks but otherwise said nothing. _Well, they're pleasant,_ He thought. "You said i was famous?" he turned back to Draco. "How am i famous?" he asked.

Draco's eyes widened at his question before he chuckled. "You're joking." he waved his hand dismissively before looking back at Bahamut. Reality slammed into Draco like a lose bludger as he caught Bahamut's blank even stare."you're not joking… are you?" The boy-who-lived, Harry James Potter, possibly the most famous wizard on the whole islands of great Britain and Ireland had no idea about what was going to happen to him as soon as he stepped into Hogwarts, and by extension, the wizarding world. Draco sat back, slack jawed, questions racing through the young man's mind. Bahamut on the other hand was wondering if they could get food on the train. He was quite hungry and was craving a nice whole pig. Slow roasted, he decided, drizzled in some kind of sweet sauce.

"You think they have food on this train?" Bahamut asked absentmindedly.

"What?" Draco was slightly taken aback. "I think there's a woman who sells snacks." just then an elderly woman pushing a cart loaded down with sweets opened the door.

"Anything from the trolly, dears?" the elderly woman asked.

Draco bought a load of sweets. "Do you have any pork on that cart?" Bahamut asked. The woman just stared bewildered back at him before answering with a resounding no. "that's disappointing." he said, dejectedly, before buying some sweets of his own. Draco was shooting him weird looks.

As the three boys and one ancient wyrm who just happened to look like a boy, Draco couldn't help but give the supposed prince of the wizarding world a thorough once over. The ragged obviously second hand clothes, broken glasses, slowly healing cut above his right eye, deep shadows under his green eyes. Draco had never seen anyone look so beaten down that it just seemed like he didn't care about anything. An abused little boy about to come under the scrutiny of a world that thought he was the next coming of merlin. This was not a good thing. Of course Draco had no way of knowing that Bahamut didn't really care about his appearance, or that the opinions of mortals mattered about as much to him as the opinions of fleas.

Just as Draco was about to voice his concerns at Bahamut's appearance the door to their compartment slid open revealing a bushy haired girl who looked oddly familiar and another boy Dracos age that looked wholly unremarkable. "Has anyone in here seen a toad?" she asked "Nevilles lost one", her voice held a bossy tone. A tone very similar to a young dragoness he had the pleasure to spend an evening with several centuries before hand. The resulting offspring he believed the mortals had called an iron belly, a fitting name considering the state he left the mother in. Bahamut sniffed and caught a faint whiff of amphibian with a dash of urine before noticing a movement in the boys coat pocket.

"Have you tried your pocket?" Bahamut asked, pointing to the boys moving poket. The boy, apparently called Neville, looked confused for a brief moment before looking into his pocket and giving a surprised squeak. He thanked Bahamut, shared a brief look with the girl then speed off down the corridor of the train.

The bushy haired girl turned to thank Harry before she stopped and gave him a puzzled look before her eyes widened with recognition. "You!" she pointed her finger accusingly at him.

"Me!" Bahamut exclaimed. He glanced at draco, then to Samedi, both people shrugging at the exact same time. Though Samedi had a grin on his face that Bahamut didn't like. Actually most of the things Samedi did or said rubbed him the wrong way.

"You're that boy from the ice cream parlor." she said. "You passed out into an ice cream bowl." Draco looked alarmed at this. That was the last straw. His father would hear about this! The girl sat down on the other side of Bahamut's bench. "Daddy said you passed out from malnutrition. Are you ok? We were awfully concerned when you ran away." Draco was giving him an accusatory stare. It was almost like he'd done something wrong.

"Ah, yes, just a medical... thing. Forgot to take my medicine that day." Bahamut dismissed her question. _Mortals._ He thought in exasperation. They were so nosy. One of their worst qualities, he swears. The girl didn't look convinced at all.

"Medicine for what?" she pried. _Why can't you just let this go?_ Bahamut fought a sigh.

"Migraines." Bahamut answered, his eye twitched slightly. "Kind of like the one i'm getting right now." he gave her pointed look. The girl had just opened her mouth to say something else when the compartment door slid open once more. Bahamut was ready to cry, he was rapidly approaching his annoying mortal quota for the day and Tiamat help them if they forced him over that edge.

There, standing in the doorway was Daphne Greengrass and a slightly to short for her age, dark haired girl. Daphne's eyes went wide when they met his. Bahamut let out a long loud groan. First the Bushy haired girl, now the girl he was positive had heard his little "episode" at the leaky cauldron. Somewhere, he was sure someone was having a laugh at him. He just needed to find them and kill them.

Xx

Ah, the train ride. Almost like a rite of passage in ff nowadays. Next, the sorting. Will it he Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Slytherin i wonder.

Theawesomest5: getting longer bit by bit.

Harrington21: very slowly. Limitations are Key for characters like this.

Guest: Pretend i said something clever in french. Thank you for reading.


	9. Chapter 9

Bahamut was slightly annoyed. In the time span of a ten minute conversation a majority of his plans for the foreseeable future were ruined. His plan to blend in? Gone. His plan to take the next few years easy and half ass this wizard school? Shattered. His plan to fuck anything with two legs and a pulse?! Actually that one just became easier so there was that at least. He was Famous. This fact didn't sit well with him. It meant mortals would be looking at him way to Close. All because of something that may have been a side effect of what caused his current situation in the first place. It also might have even been the cause or a catalyst in some way.

The rest of the train ride was almost close to what one would consider normal. Well as normal as he figured his life was likely to get. The dark haired girl Pansy talked for what seemed like hours about the most mundane things. She was great for one sided conversations. Daphne just sat on the far side of his bench for remainder of the journey. All she did was **stare** at him. One could describe it as unnerving. Except for the fact that Bahamut could see the fear in her, the way she shook slightly and her body was turned ever so in case she needed to bolt out the door. All in all, it was adorable. Mortals could be so cute sometimes. Draco, to his credit tried to catch Bahamut up on the magical world at large. He especially found the tales about his supposed childhood fascinating. Apparently there was a famous book series called "the lightning boy and…" that detailed his formative years fighting dark wizards and travelling the world seeing fantastical places, people and things. He resolved to buy the whole series at some point for a laugh. The bushy haired girl called Hermione was also an interesting mortal. Slightly bossy, highly intelligent, a little naive, but a good mortal to have around. Even when she revealed she was a first generation magical and Draco got all weird and tried to insult her. It was really funny to see her swat the boy on the nose like a puppy who just pissed on the carpet. A debate broke out, both sides having rather good points until an amused laugh and a dismissal of the arguments from Bahamut had ended what would later be referred to as "the great Malfoy-Granger compromise of 1991."

"Firs' years! Firs' years over 'ere!" the half giant, hagrid, hollered as Bahamut and his friends stepped off the Express. Well maybe friends was a strong word. Acquaintances? No, he didn't really have those either. Pets? Yes, yes he had new pets, much more fitting. Bahamut and his new pets made there way over towards the overgrown groundskeeper along with the rest of the first year students. They went left towards the docs and the rest of the student made their way right. They made there way toward the rickety looking boats mooring on the doc when an unfamiliar emotion reared its head in Bahamut's stomach. He couldn't swim. Never learned how to with this body. Sure he could with his original body, but not this one. He supposed he could faff about in the water until he either figured it out or drowned. Not that he was sure he could drown. Hell, he wasn't sure he could die. The pig-man had made an admirable effort after all.

Bahamut felt a delicate hand rest on his shoulder and give him a gentle push towards the boat. He was surprised to find the owner of the hand was Daphne. Her eyes held a gentle encouraging look to them, even though he could still taste her fear. This look stunned him for a moment. Why was she of all people being nice to him? Maybe it had something to do with his little episode at the tavern? She could also just be being nice to him he supposed. _No,_ he decided. Something was definitely up. Come to think of it Draco was giving them funny looks on the train as well. There was also the way her family had been rather insistent on helping back in Diagon alley. Ah well, questions for later.

Bahamut shot her a somewhat grateful look before stepping into the old rickety boats with the rest of the tiny mortals. Daphne got in as well and sat beside him. Draco and Hermione got in behind them while Dracos minions left to find their own boat. Soon after they all set off across the dark waters of the lake. Samedi was floating along behind them looking around curiously at the boats and the lake. Samedi had been unusually quiet recently. Having only know the spirit for a few weeks it was hard to tell if this was normal for him. Usually he was making colourful comments on Bahamut's day-to-day life. He almost got a sense of trepidation from the old spirit.

Soon enough the castle came into view. The mystified gasps of his companions and the other students spoke volumes of their thoughts on the towering structure before them. Bahamut on the other hand narrowed his eyes at the structure. It was plain to see what had the new students in an athstetics coma over the old castle with its huge towers, billowing buttresses and almost flamboyant uses of stone statues strewn about its high walls. But Bahamut could see past all the facade of the castle. One look at the wards covering the castle like the shell of a great beast, the ancient runes and lines of power that flowed interwoven throughout the structure told a very different story than the quaint little magic school it presented itself as. No, this place was a fortress inside and out. What puzzled him the most was whether or not it was supposed to protect the inhabitants of the castle or protect the people from the inhabitants of the castle. With the way some of the wards looked it could be either way.

Bahamut felt the familiar sensation of cold air wash over him as they crossed into the castles wards. He saw several of the wards begin poking and prodding at the students keying them into the wards. Bahamut felt the wards begin to do the same to him. Most of them were harmless enough, registering things like general health and various other statistics about the humans. All boring stuff really until he felt one try and grab ahold of his magics. He felt a long tendril of a ward begin to reach into his primordial magic before recoiling horribly. Several of the wards snapped onto him and began monitoring him immediately. Tentatively he felt it reach out again and try and find his magics. Deciding that it wasn't worth headache he subtly guided the ward towards the tiny magic core left over from his body's previous inhabitant. The wards seemed to… sigh with relief at this. This caused Bahamut to look around for a second. He wasn't sure but he thought he had heard an audible sigh.

Soon enough the little boats crept up on a little encove covered in vines in the rock face. "Watch yer 'eads." the half giant bellowed. Though he was the only one who really needed to duck as the slick vines slid over their boats moored themselves to a dock in the cove. Ropes slid from the boats like snakes as they wrapped themselves around wooden pegs on the docs.

Bahamut was relatively impressed. All these theatrics just to key some brats into the wards. These mortals never cease to amaze.

Bahamut stepped into the dock and glanced around the small encove. It was wet and slick. The craggy rock of the walls slowly transitioning into the smooth brickwork as it got closer to a set of stairs near the back of the cave. The stairs themselves leading up into set of massive double doors. He assumed they lead into the castle. Standing in front of those doors had to be one of the hands down most constipated looking cat pretending to be a women that Bahamut had ever seen. Well, she smelled like a cat at least.

Xx

I'm back! Sorta…. So look. I got hit by a car. I'M FINE… kinda. Broke my hip. It sucks but the meds make me fuzzy and its hard to write so here is this to tide you over for now. I'm sorry, i'm not abandoning this story!

Vizeerlord: i know. I'm trying.

God of all: its here for you

Philosophize: i know… i'm terrible

Harrington21: this is what happens next.


	10. Chapter 10

I don't own hp

Xx

Bahamut was ready to vomit. After being dragged unceremoniously through an assortment of passages that elongated or shrank seemingly at the whim of an unseen force that he swore was just doing this to fuck with him he was tossed into a tornado of mortal effluence that the cat pretending to be a woman referred to as the "great hall." the smell alone could gag a maggot. Piss. shit, blood, mortal stink, oceans of whale vomit mixed with a menagerie of crushed flowers and spices, strange potion odours and he could swear at least four of the females in the room are pregnant. He shielded his mouth and nose in an attempt to cover his silent retching. Draco was looking at him with slight concern.

Samedi on the other hand was having a ball of a time drifting around and just looking around. Being stuck in a vault for a few decades had brought back Samedi's sense of adventure. So he was waltzing between the tables eavesdropping, looking over the students shoulders and just generally sticking his nose where it most certainly did not belong. As he was sauntering down the alley between the slytherin and gryffindor he bumped into an old gentlemanly looking ghost and accidentally knocked it's head off. " 'ay mon. sorry bout dat." Samedi said as he righted the noble looking ghosts head. " didn' mean ta make ya _lose your head!"_ Samedi began to roar with laughter.

"No trouble at all my good lad. Happens all the time." and the ghost turned and began to float away before he stopped. A puzzled look striking his features. He had just had his nearly headless head knocked off. Why was that strange to him? It came loose all the time. He corrected it all the time. So why was this incident so strange? Then it came to him. He bumped into another ghost and he righted his head for him… bumped... Suddenly he turned around and stared straight at Samedi. Not through him like he did with most ghosts… but at him. Nick drank in Samedi's appearance and felt a chill settle over him for the first time since his near decapitation. Samedi, who had taken the liberty of looking over the shoulders of two identical red heads as they schemed, didn't notice at all. The old ghost spun on the spot and floated quickly over to the bloody baron who was floating menacingly over the slytherin table and began talking in quit hurried tones. The baron looking more and more horrified with every word said.

Bahamut had recovered slightly and had taken to breathing through his mouth. The cat pretending to be a woman, who had just introduced herself as professor McGonagall, had set a disturbingly old piece of leather on a rickety old stool. She explained that the piece of leather was somehow going to sort them into their houses. Now how an "old hat", as the woman had put it, was going to sort them puzzled the old wyrm. That was until the brim on the hat split wide and it began to sing. This was not really that big of a shock to Bahamut as it was to the rest of the spawns around him. He knew that the mortals liked to shove magic into what ever caught the fancy of their tiny chimp brains at the time. What did disturb him however was how off tune the hat was. It was like four different voices all trying, and failing, to harmonize with each other.

After the song ended the McGonagall woman gave a short speech about the four houses and what was expected of them. Bahamut tuned her out as she began to call names. He was to occupied with trying to breath as little as possible. He vaguely noted when the humans he meet on the train were called up. Hermione went to Ravenclaw. The rotund boy, Nevil went to Hufflepuff. Daphne and Draco went to Slytherin. Then finally the woman called the name of his body. Whispers rang out all around the hall. This, compounded with the stench of the place, grated on Bahamut's nerves. Could these humans not go ten minutes without stumbling all over themselves at the mere mention of his name?

As he sat down on the stool and the old hat was placed on his head he immediately threw his mental guards into place as he felt the hooks of the hats magic try to delve into his mind. The brim fell over his eyes and he turned inward to stare at the mental spears trying to delve into his mind. Out of curiosity, and mostly boredom, he latched onto one of the spears and followed it back up into the hat. Suddenly he found himself sitting in a comfy chair staring back at four individuals who seemed several centuries out of date sitting in two high back leather armchairs and one plush looking couch sitting in between them. They in turn were staring back at him with equally perplexed but mostly alarmed expressions.

One of the males, the one with bright red hair and beard wearing deep red and gold robes was sputtering and seemed to be having a small panic attack before suddenly standing up and pulling a sword out of a scabbard that was resting beside his chair. "Who are you!" he demanded. "How did you get in here?" Bahamut scowled, he hated when mortals got jumpy especially when they were holding sharp objects.

He was about to tell the man off when the plumper of the two women stood up and smacked the man with a book. "That's enough Godric, you're scaring the poor dear." the woman was portly, heavy breasted and wearing yellow and black trimmed robes with chestnut hair. She seemed to be the motherly one of the group.

The other male scoffed, "honestly Godric, if the boy is gifted enough to find his way here than the last thing we want is for you to go swinging that old butter knife at him." the man took a sip of the tea cup he had been holding, accidentally spilling some on his massive grey beard and emerald and silver robes cursing as he did so. The man, apparently named Godric, sputtered a bit before falling back into his chair in a defeated slump.

"Don't you think that advises at least a little caution Salazar?" Godric shot back with a scowl.

The one called Salazar frowned in thought for a moment. "Maybe some. What do you think Rowena?" Salazar asked.

The dark haired female studied him for a few silent moments. "Never in the history of the castle has such a thing come to pass." she said. "I would advise caution." Salazar rolled his eyes. The woman began to pour herself some tea. "Helga dear, would you pass the sugar?" the plump one, Helga, obliged the fair skinned female.

"Of course." helga started. "Now comes the problem of sorting the him. Usually we could just peek into his mind to sort him. But i doubt he'd let us."

Godric grunted. Not taking his eyes off Bahamut. "When was the last time we interviewed a student?"

"Us? Never. Before we stuffed our collective consciousness into a hat?" Salazar furrowed his brows in concentration. "I believe my last interview was Armand Malfoy's brat In ten-seventy-five."

Deciding that he probably wasn't going to be apart of this conversation for awhile. Bahamut began to inspect his surroundings. It was strange this place, Wherever his mind was, was rather spacious if a bit misshapen.

"You there, boy!" Godric bellowed at him. "Sit down." he commanded.

Now, despite the fact that he had been kicked around and abused by the pig family for years, the fact that what could only be assumed was some type of ghost or intelligent echo of a long dead man, was attempting exert a slight amount of control over him did in fact begin to silently make his blood boil. The almost overwhelming urge to burn the little man to a crisp was clawing at the edges of his mind like a beast caged far to long. Perhaps he had been human to long? Ignoring ones baser instincts and bottling them away for too long was perhaps more unhealthy than he originally thought. Maybe he should consider finding an outlet for his aggression.

Reluctantly Bahamut sat back down in the chair across from the four other occupants in the room. His green eyes staring intently at the redhead that had so brazenly commanded him. Godric meet his gaze and refused to look away. His lips twitched ever so slightly when he observed the older male begin to twitch under his gaze. It was not often Bahamut focused his complete and undivided attention onto other beings. He learned very early in this body's life that even though he was far from the magnificence of his true form something within humans made them deeply unsettled by his gaze. Almost as if they could sense something off about his very nature.

"Leave the boy alone Godric." Salazar chastised before shifting his gaze back to the boy. "So tell us. How did you find your way here?"

Bahamut allowed his gaze linger on the red-headed male for a few seconds longer. Godric was beginning to twitch furiously now. His left eye wincing every now and again. Then he leveled his stare at the other wizard. Salazar, to his credit, held his gaze. No sign of involuntary movements or discomfort appearing on his wizened face. "It's not like it was that hard." Bahamut stated bluntly. "The spears you use to read my mind were like rope. I just followed them back here."

Salazar and Rowena shared a look. This was not going to be easy.

Forty-five odd minutes later Bahamut was ready to kill these mortals. Currently Rowena was arguing with salazar over which house to put him in. specifically why he should be in each of their houses and not in the others. Godric was making matters even worse by demanding he be in Gryffindor based solely on the reason he was a Potter. The great ginger bastard was also deliberately antagonizing the two by insulting them at key points in their debate. Rowena had even gotten a chalk board at some point and was trying to prove he was only worth of ravenclaw using arithmetic of all things.

Currently he was sitting in front of them with his head in his hands. Listening to these mortals bicker like hens was causing a massive migraine. his only saving grace was Helga. The plump woman had handed him a cup of tea and he was grateful to her. "You know what i can't figure out." he said.

Helga smiled at him. "No dear, what's that?" she said.

"Why aren't you trying to get me into your house?" Bahamut asked, warily.

Helga smile was soft and motherly as she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Because, i don't choose who becomes part of my house. You do." at the look of confusion on his face she continued. "Some students know where they belong long before they come here. Some are torn between two. But for those who fear they don't belong at all chose my house because they know they will always find a home and be welcome among family."

that made sense he supposed. It also sounded like an amazing place to hide. A smirk slowly graced his lips.

Xx

Sykartracer: hmm. Maybe, we'll see.

Harrington21: a dragons point of view is very interesting to write from. And of course he has pets. Wouldn't you?

Vizeerlord: first. I'm aware. Second, that advice doesn't help in a head on collision. Also neither.

Deathfang9: thanks and i'm way better.


	11. Chapter 11

I don't own HP

Xx

Bahamut lazed about his bed in the hufflepuff dorm with a dopey smile on his face. Being a hufflepuff was turning out to be perhaps the best decision he'd made in a long time. The dorms were located right next to the kitchen and there was even a window where he could order food whenever he pleased. Though the other children did give him weird looks when they all ordered ice cream and he ordered a steak. A very rare steak. They also had their own rooms. Another plus since that meant he didn't have to take extra precautions when talking to his spectral companion.

Speaking of his spectral companion, Samedi was currently in the dorm room above his perving on the seventh year girls dorm. Say what you will about the old bastard he was enjoying his limited freedom to the fullest. A minute later he sank down from the ceiling and slumped onto the end of Bahamut's bed with a wide toothy grin. "Good lord." he said wiping invisible sweat off his brow. "I keep getting older and they stay the same."

Bahamut gave him a pointed look. "Gross."

Samedi grinned before slipping off his hat and producing two glasses and a large jug with three comically large X's on it. "So tell me, my not so scaly friend. What's our next move?" Samedi poured a dark green liquid into the two glasses and handed one to Bahamut before raising his glass.

Bahamut took the glass and sniffed gave the liquid an experimental sniff. It smelled strongly like alcohol and faintly of corn, pears and rotted meat. He shrugged and toasted Samedi and drank the liquid. It was surprisingly smooth and didn't burn his throat until it hit his stomach and it felt like a mule had kicked him square in the gut and started to cough and sputter. Samedi laughed before downing his own glass and smacking his lips. "What the hell is that?" he asked.

"Shine my friend, shine." Samedi said. "The most potent alcohol you can find and this is my own special brand. I figured we should celebrate a little."

Bahamut Glared at the madly grinning Loa for a moment before standing up cracking his neck. "I may have a plan." he leaned against the dresser and faced Samedi folding his arms against his small frame. "Unfortunately I can't really do it during the school year. I have a few friends in high and low places that may be able to shed some light on my current predicament."

"Oh, so why haven't you gone to them before this?" Samedi asked.

"Resources." Bahamut stated bluntly. "Before now i've had no access to resources. No money or options. And even then, i tried. But a toddler trying to buy a train ticket to France or the Netherlands tends to attract more attention than I originally thought it would." he remembered a specific instance where he was starved for a week after he was returned to the pig family by a constable.

Samedi gave Bahamut one of his insane smiles. "So now you got the green you can go wherever you need to, eh? Alright, so where do we start on our icle' globetrottin' adventure of ours."

Bahamut grabbed a few quills out his bag before channeling his magic into one and forcing it into a large map of the world and throw it against the wall where it stuck with a pleasant crinkling sound. "Top of my list would be Norway." Bahamut said as threw a quill at the map, the quill transforming into a dart as it flew and embedded itself into the wall with a resounding thunk. "Got an old… well , I hesitate to call him friend but an old acquaintance nonetheless." he threw another quill, embedding it into ireland. "After that, assuming my friend in norway fails us."

"Naturally." Samedi interjected, taking another sip from his glass.

"Naturally." Bahamut nodded. "We head into the Feywilds in Ireland. Titania owes me a favor."

"Who?" Samedi asked, raising one bone white eyebrow.

"Queen of the Fairy Folk and raging bitch." Bahamut explained, embedding another dart into Greece. "If that fails we head to Delphi and trip 'till something makes sense… or at least we think it makes sense."

"Isn't there supposed to be an oracle or something there?" Samedi asked as he produced a cigar from his hat and lit it with his finger.

Bahamut nodded. "Dead for far too long." he said, embedding a dart into China. "Then we pop in on an old friend in China. He probably won't be able to help us but he knows a lot of the celestials in the Jade Palace."

Samedi took a long drag from the cigar and exhaled a plume of smoke that nearly engulfed the room. Bahamut in the meantime threw another dart at the wall and heard it land with a resounding thunk. "After that we'll head to…" he waited for the smoke to clear. "Egypt." he frowned trying to think if he knew anybody in Egypt.

"What's in Egypt?" Samedi asked

"The Dead." Bahamut stretched and laid back down on the bed and let the stench of cheap tobacco lull him into a restless slumber.

Xx

 _Bahamut's snores echoed like thunder around his lair as slept on his mound of gold and treasure. The day before was blissfully uneventful. Just as the day before and the day before that. That's how he preferred things nowadays. Boring and uneventful. Let the children have their petty squabbles and fight their meaningless battles over the females. Let the humans have their castles and pitiful magics. He was just fine napping for the next few centuries. Thank you very much._

 _It was then that he felt the alarms he had set go off. He sighed a heavy sigh and tucked his massive black crowned head under wing. Trying to ignore the alarm. He knew it couldn't be anything major. If it was something like one of his brothers he'd have sensed them coming ages ago. No, he decided. Whatever it was could wait until he had finished his ruddy good nap before he would even acknowledge the intruder._

 _Bahamut smelled the intruder long before he saw them. There was no mistaking that smell. It was humans… again. Honestly this was the third time this decade. Could these humans not understand what he was? Could they, in their limited capacity, truly not comprehend their own mortality? Of course not…_

 _Soon enough they came barging into his bedchamber swords drawn, sticks ablaze with magic and shouting in their strange tongues. He felt their blades as they tickled his scales. He sighed again. They probably mistook it for a roar or something. And lifted his head to lazaly stare down at the intruders. There were three of them. A knight in armour holding a sword and a shield. Another with a mace and holding some type of holy symbol and finally an old man holding a stick._

 _The knight pointed his sword at him and began shouting. He was very far away from bahamut's head so he didn't quite make out what he was saying. Probably something about princesses. Knights liked to yell about those from time to time. Though he had no idea why. He had never kidnapped a princess in his life. The knight charged at him ready to strike. So he reached one massive claw out put his fore claw behind his thumb claw and flicked the flea away from him. The knight slammed into the wall behind his comrades with a dull clink and slid slowly down it leaving a slight blood trail. Landing, conveniently, next to the skeleton of the last knight who had met the same end. The old man with a stick began to fire bolts of light at him as he and the man with a mace hastily made their retreat. The light dissipating off his scales as they hit. Bahamut smiled to himself before resuming his nap._

Xx

The next morning Draco awoke feeling sluggish and tired. He hauled himself from his bed and headed for the restroom to start his morning routine. the same routine he had meticulously kept since his father had showed it to him when he was a small child. First the teeth and breath charms, then the hair and acne charms and so on and so forth until he looked every bit the Malfoy scion he should be.

With that out of the way he walked to the slytherin common room, met up with Daphne, Pansy. Crab and Goyle, and began the long trek from the dungeons to the great hall.

"So." Draco started. "Harry, the Hufflepuff. I for one did not see that coming."Draco let out a frustrated sigh. "I thought for sure he was going to end up in Slytherin. Or at the very least Gryffindor." Crab and Goyle grunted in agreeance… or just grunted, he wasn't exactly sure.

"I know." Pansy responded. "But maybe it's better this way. If he were in gryffindor we'd be enemies. That would be bad. Especially after we put in so much effort to befriend him on the train."

Draco scrunched his face in thought. "I don't think that would have been a problem. He just has this weird way about things. Like he's here, but he's not… here. Does that make sense?" he asked the group at large.

Daphne walked a few steps behind the group of Slytherins. Her thoughts dragging her attention away from the ramblings of Draco towards the new found. She hesitated to call it friendship, with the boy-who-lived. Ever Since that day in the inn she had been second guessing herself. Had his eyes really been slitted like a snakes or was it just a reflection or something? Daphne shook her head. "It does, In a way. But I have a feeling he sees us as something other than friends. I don't think he means to but… " Daphne suddenly yelped a something struck her on the head and she stumbled into Crab who stumbled into Goyle who fell onto Draco who gave out a high pitched scream as he was forced to the floor by the weight of the two half ogres.

Pansy, who apparently had the best reflexes of the group, had managed to avoid the flailing mass of limbs and bodies of the three boys by quickly stepping to the left. "What was that?" she asked. Looking at Daphne for some kind of answer.

Daphne look around wildly for the source of what hit her. Finally her eyes rested on a small shoe resting a few feet away on the ground. Tentatively she walked over and picked up the shoe to examine it. Her brow furrowed as she handled the ordinary black dress shoe. Exactly the same as the pair she had on. The question now remains as to where it had come from. A question quickly answered as she heard a faint snore ring out from above her.

Slowly her eyes and the eyes of her compatriots rose to see the subject of there aforementioned conversation hanging from the ceiling as if someone had stuck him there by glue. Harry Potter, boy-who-lived and blatant horses ass was napping on the ceiling.

Daphne's eye began to twitch. Every time she turned her back on this boy for what seemed like only a few minutes she would turn back around only to find some type of chaotic tornado had struck while her eyes were averted. A sudden anger seemed to overtake her as she took the shoe and hurled it up towards the boys face where it struck with a satisfying, for her at least, thunk as it slammed into his face.

Harry's face scrunched up in pain before his eyes opened and he lazily gazed down at his friends. A sleepy smile made its way onto his lips as he sluggishly waved down at his friends. "Hey, guys. When'd you get here?" he asked as he stretched.

Draco's jaw hung open as he stared at his hanging friend. "When did we get here?" he asked incredulously. "What are you doing up there?!" he shouted.

"Oh you know… hanging out."

Xx

Vizeerlord: i rather like martinis

Jordansdevil: I like my writing style as well.

Harrington21: you are my oldest reviewer. I like that you're still here.

Mithrilandtj: it's pretty cool.


	12. Chapter 12

I don't own HP

Xx

It turns out that sleep wasn't in the cards for Bahamut. As he laid there in his room for hours the first night. The stench of tobacco smoke filtering into his nostrils he realized that unlike his formative years where the constant abuse and need to keep himself alive had caused his new body to require sleep. Now that he was drawing magic into himself at an unheard of rate the need for sleep almost gone. He scowled at this. After all he quite enjoyed sleep. He used to sleep for decades at a time but now it was like he could feel the energy humming beneath his skin.

Bahamut sat up and glared at nothing in particular. Samedi from his position in a chair across the room lazily looked up at the scowling dragon. "Sometin' wrong?" Samedi asked

"Can't sleep." bahamut replied.

"Why not?"

"I… don't think i need to anymore." his scowl deepened.

"And that's... bad?" the spirit cocked its head.

"I. Like. Sleep." came Bahamut's flat reply. Considering he had once slept for six decades straight and woke up from his nap a very cranky bastard he would honestly say he loved sleep more than life itself. throwing his legs over the side of the bed he stood up and walked to his wardrobe to dress himself. "Come on." he said. "We're going for a walk."

Xx

"Ok check in there." Bahamut pointed to another blank space in the wall. Samedi stuck his neck through it. "Anything?" he asked.

"No." Samedi replied pulling his head from what seemed like the hundreth wall. "Just a couple of skeletons in what looks like a sex swing."

"What?"

"Yeah." Samedi relied. "At least that's what it looks like. Considering how close their pelvis bones are together. That and the harness had some bad mojo around it so it's probably cursed."

Bahamut groaned. He understood it was an old castle but why had so many of the hidden rooms they'd checked had skeletons in weird sexual positions in them? He was starting to think the castle had a deadly sexual deviant problem. Also for a children's school there is an abnormal amount of skeletons. Not that he didn't expect there to _be_ skeletons. He just didn't expect so many… and in so many sexually provocative positions.

Well shit.

When they passed a window and saw the dawn breaking Bahamut decided that it was time to return to his bedroom before he was caught by the caretaker and his weird cat who, weirdly enough, didn't smell like a cat. After all he had an image to maintain, now more than ever.

As Bahamut turned the corner a corner he saw the twin redheads he had seen in the opening feast. They were standing in the middle of the corridor hunched over a ragged piece of paper with ghostly lines of magic that fed into the stonework around them. He always hated dealing with twins. Their shared soul always gave him a headache to look at. Suddenly they both turned to look at him and an almost malicious smile spread across their shared faces.

Xx

"... and then they grabbed me. Dragged me across the hall and stuck me to the ceiling." Harry finished with a lazy smile.

"Ok, just to clarify." Draco said with an incredulous expression on his face. "You went for a morning walk, ran into the Weasley twins… and they stuck you to the ceiling?"

"Yes."

Daphne's eye was twitching. That was a bad sign as Draco knew that twitch from when they had played together as children. The girl was either about the start cursing the defenseless Potter or, more likely, about to throw another shoe. This made him scratch the small scar on the back of his head from where she had nailed him as children. Turns out the girl couldn't control her shoe throw impulses as she reached down, wrenched off her own shoe and threw it as hard as she could at the boy. The shoe sailed through the air and just as it was about to slam into the boys face it froze before gently floating back down to Daphne.

"Mrs. Greengrass." came the low drawl of the her head of house. "I assume there is a reason you were about to assault a fellow student?"

Daphne flushed and looked away in embarrassment. "Sorry professor Snape."

Snape cocked one immaculate eyebrow. "In the future I would suggest you keep your temper in check." he turned to the boy currently sticking to the ceiling. "And I would also suggest you avoid the weasley twins in your future morning strolls Mr. Potter." with a swish of his wand the boy floated down to join his friends. "Now, it is almost time for breakfast to begin. Hurry along now." the small group scrambled to their feet and scurried to the great hall.

Daphne watched their retriting back in deep thought until she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Is something the matter Miss Greengrass?"

After a few seconds she shook her head. "No professor. Just thinking i guess."

Snape nodded but didn't believe her. "Run along then Miss Greengrass. You don't want to miss breakfast."

Xx

Bahamut. was. _Bored._ He sat there listening to the half goblin blather on and on about the correct way to wave his wand and correct pronunciation with a face that mimicked the amazement of those around him but make no mistake the whole time he was seriously considering the pros and cons of a lobotomy via feathered quill. "Now remember. Swish and flick!" the half goblin said. Bahamut vaguely wondered if "swish and flick" took on an entirely different meaning to the older mortals. He swore he heard the half breed chuckle after every instruction.

Bahamut decided to look around at his fellow Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws as they attempted the charm. Hermione was first to perfectly perform the charm earning her house a few points in the process. Deciding he had wasted the perfect amount of time observing he dutifully picked up his wand, stared down at his feather and proceeded to nearly destroy the entire class. Having never used his wand before he had assumed it would latch onto the tiny magical core that had been left behind when this bodys soul had passed. He was wrong, of course. It bypassed that core, his draconic core and went straight for his primordial core. He had managed to sever the connection at the last second but the result was the sound of a cannon going off, his desk exploding into dust and his feather embedding itself into the ceiling. All in all he felt like it was a pretty great explosion. One he would have been proud of… if it weren't for the fact that after that point the professors of the school watched him like a hawk whenever he had his wand out and the other welps seemed to slink away from him.

Flitwick jumped off his pile of books and ran to where Bahamut had been thrown across the room. "My dear boy, are you alright?" he squeaked as he bent down to prone dragon.

"I'm alright." Bahamut chirped as he stood up and brushed the soot off his robes. He looked around at the horrified expressions of his classmates and one particularly amused spirit. Samedi was snickering and it made his eye twitch.

"Well then… if you're sure." Flitwick backed up several paces and flicked his wand at him. Bahamut idle noted the thin gray barrier that had erupted around him. "Now try not to force it this time." Bahamut nodded, resisting the temptation to roll his eyes. He cast the charm perfectly and guided the focus to the smallest least deadly core. This time the feather lifted gently off the ground. It annoyed him how much concentration it took to keep it from exploding. "Well done Mr. Potter, well done."

Xx

Garlic.

Yes. Garlic was what he'd use to season professor Quirrell if he had the chance. Garlic and lemon, maybe some peppercorn as well. Of course he'd also have to drown the man in milk to get that corrupted magic taste off and he'd probably use at least a few kilos of butter just to make get the gamey taste out.

Bahamut sat in Defense class occasionally jotting down recipes he'd used to cook humans in the past. Draco and Crabbe were idling playing a game of hanged man to his left while Daphne was angrily trying her best to ignore him to his right. He was content to let her stew while he half paid attention to the world around him. It was funny, no matter how uninteresting the man tried to make defense the most interesting thing in the castle was the man himself. He knew humans weren't the smartest animals on the planet but seriously, how dumb could you be to allow another soul to leach off your own soul? Sure he was being slightly hypocritical. After all he had a leach of his own. But at least he had soul to spare. These humans barely had enough soul for themselves let alone two people.

Bahamut vaguely noticed the familiar sensation of someone trying to enter his mind. Growing tired of every third person or hat he met trying to read his mind he decided this time he was going to give whoever or whatever was trying to invade his head a piece of his well… mind. Grasping onto the tendril of magic he yankedit towards himself. Professor Quirrell screamed bloody murder and collapsed throwing the whole room into a panic. Good, that'll show the bastard. It was also convenient that it got them out of class for the rest of the day, which he supposed was good to.

"Look on the bright side mate. At least you didn't blow up half the class this time." Draco snickered as they walked out of transfiguration the next day.

Bahamut scowled. "I still blew up though… " it was true. Everytime he used his wand it took more concentration than he'd like to admit to guide the magic to and out off his "wizard" core as he had taken to calling it. When he attempted to turn a match into a needle it had instead exploded into a shower of fine sawdust. Earning him a lecture about proper wand movements and pronunciation. It wasn't like he hadn't been practicing magic longer than the cat-woman had been alive or anything. Sure he had never used a wand before but it wasn't like he could just go around doing magic with no wand. As far as the humans were concerned he was just an average eleven year old child and eleven year old children didn't go around performing advanced magic far above their skill levels. That would be silly.

Xx

Bill Weasley was exhausted. Being a curse breaker for gringotts was possibly one of the most magically exhausting jobs there was. Just today he had consulted on no less than twelve different tombs that had all been located on completely opposite sides of bloody Egypt. To say that he needed a stiff drink was an understatement. He needed a pint and half a dozen tumblers to go with it.

Bill walked up the stairs into his favorite drinking hole with a sigh of relief. It had been a godsend when he found the bar a few months ago. He had been feeling right home sick when he had stumbled upon the place. It was a normally quiet little bar with a smoky atmosphere. He had befriended the bar man rather quickly. The egyptian chap had traveled quite a bit and spoke english fairly well so he was always a good conversation. When Bill walked into the bar he noticed the tense atmosphere immediately. In the middle of the bar there was a large group of people surrounding a table with a man and a rather short woman staring each other down.

Bill headed to the bar and ordered a pint while keeping an eye on the pair. The bartender Moustafa, poured him a glass before going back to polishing another one he pulled out form behind the counter. "So what's their deal?" Bill asked, gesturing to the gaggle of people.

"You see that man, the big one?" Moustafa, pointed at the large arabic man who was staring down the woman. "He's a djinn, and the girl wants his fire."

"His fire?" Bill asked, clearly confused.

Moustafa nodded. "All djinn have a special fire they make. It's solid, almost like a crystal. It's said to have a lot of uses in potions and wand making but djinn are… less than amicable about parting with them." Bill nodded, He knew a thing or two about ancient things not wanting to part with their treasures.

Over at the table the Djinn threw up his hands in andry exasperation. "Damn you witch!" he said with a thick mediteranian accent. "You cheat!" he stated. Sweeping the ancient egytian game they had been playing off the table, scattering dice everywhere.

The woman grinned maniacally, her dark skin and monstrously curly black hair seeming to wave in an almost invisible breeze behind her. "We had a deal djinn." she stuck out her hand. "Give it here." she demanded only to have her hand smacked away by the irate Djinni.

"No! You cheat!" he said again. A restless whisper descended into the crowd around them and gold that had previously been changing hand froze mid swap. "game had not been played in centuries. No way women like you beat me." he declared.

The woman snarled at the man showing brilliantly white teeth. "Fine!" she screamed. "You want a game i can't cheat at? Here it is!" she reached into her robes and pulled out a muggle revolver. Bill sat up at this. While muggle weapons were more common out here than back home he certainly hadn't been expecting the woman to pull out one in a crowded magical bar. A hush descended on the crowd as she popped open the revolver and removed five of the bullets and lined them up on table. She struck the cylinder with the palm of her hand making it spin rapidly. With a flick of her dainty wrist it slammed back into place with a deafening click. "You want fair? This is as fair as I can get." the woman laid the revolver in the middle of the table.

The Djinn eyed her with distrust. "You crazy." he stated. She flashed him another feral grin. "Fine. we play your game. I can not die. i'll be rid of you either way." she stopped him before he could pick up the revolver.

"I want to see it." the woman demanded.

The djinn scowled before reaching into his vest and pulling out the djinn fire and setting on the table. The fire flickered but didn't burn the table as it was set down. It was more like a moving crystal than actual fire. It licked the air with solid red tendrils made of crystal. Bill marveled at the strangeness of the object. It just didn't make sense and yet it was. "You first." he said.

The people surrounding the pair furiously began to exchange bets as the woman picked up the muggle weapon and brought it to her temple. The bar held its breath as her finger hesitated on the trigger.

Click.

The noise was deafening as the crowd exploded into cheers as gold exchanged hands and bets were recast. The feral grin on the woman's face grew imposibly larger as she threw the revolver down. The djinn picked it up and snarled at the woman as he put the revolver to his head pulled the trigger.

Click.

The djinn threw down the revolver before throwing his hands in the air and letting out a mighty below. The bar erupted into chaos once more. A few of the patron clapped the djinn on the back as one stepped forward and grabbed the revolver popping it open and inserting another bullet into the cylinder before mimicking the woman and spinning it closed and handing it to the woman. She took it and the room went silent again as she put the revolver back against her temple. Letting lose a snarl of her own she slammed her finger against the trigger.

Click.

Bill jumped up giving a whooping grin as a sour faced bar man dropped a sack of gold into his hands. The rest of the bar followed his lead. Never in his life had he seen something so exciting. His heart was pounding and he could hear the blood in his ears as the adrenaline coursed through his veins. The djinn was on his feet now, loudly swearing at the woman as he grabbed the revolver from her hands before and sticking it under his chin. He screamed as he pulled the trigger.

BANG!

Blood and gray matter sprayed across the patrons as the gin fell back and hit the ground with a loud thud. The world froze around them as everyone looked stunned the motionless djinn. Then the world kicked into full gear as the woman lunged for the djinni fire. Shouts erupted as spells began to fly in all directions. A brawl broke out around them as bill tried to reach for his wand. He was knocked for a loop as a fist caught him across the jaw knocking him off balance. He braced himself on one of the large windows as he tried to catch his balance. "Get out of the way!" he turned just in time to see a bushy haired rocket slam into him and then he was falling. The woman had tackled them out of the window.

The mass of tangled limbs slammed into the ground below with a fleshy thunk. Bill looked down at his chest to see the woman had landed on top of him. He was pretty sure one of his ribs was broken but all he could focus on in that moment was the pair of silver eyes staring at him. "Who are you?" he struggled out between gasping breaths.

The woman just looked up at him and grinned. "I'm Emma. Emma Nessingway."

Xx

Jordansdevil: you are welcome.

Harrington21: i'm sure it's been done before. Everythings been done before in some capacity.

Fast Frank and Erik: thank you for the reviews.

A/N: hey guys. I'm not dead. Shocker i know.


	13. Chapter 13

I don't own hp

Xx

"Okay." Samedi piped up from where he was relaxing against the side of the small rowboat they were crammed in. "tell me why we're out here again?"

Bahamut sighed, as he leveled a steady glare at the spirit. "We are here." he picked up the Ox head to emphasize his point. "To go fishing for a friend of mine." he reached down and picked up a meat hook before spearing it into the Ox's eye cavity.

"And _who_ are we fishin' for again?" Samedi arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow.

"Jormungandr" Bahamut said as he tossed the Oxhead overboard. It made a sickly splash as it hit the water before sinking and dragging the massive rope behind it. "His head should be around here somewhere."

"And who _is_ germu… yerga… _whoeva_ da hell you talkin' 'bout?" samedi reached into the cooler that sat between them and pulled out one of the sandwiches Bahamut had prepared before they left.

Bahamut also reached in and pulled out a glass bottle of soda before using the side of the boat as a makeshift opener. "Jorgy is…" he hesitated as he took a sip of his soda. "An asshole. But he's a smart guy. Also he's from the future technically so he might know… something." he also gave Samedi a quick condensed version of Jorgys myth.

Samedi gave him a skeptical look. Suddenly the boat began to rock and sway as the water was whipped up around them. "Who dares disturb my rest with this delicious cow head!" a deep voice said as a dark shape began to rise from the water towering above them. "Who are you to disturb… "

"All right, all right Jorgy your acting like a putz get down here." Bahamut said as he started waving the overblown snake down to them. The black shape paused as it stared down at the stunned spirit and the irate child. Then it got a _real_ good look at them before slowly bringing its head into view. It's very. Tiny. head. About 6 feet above them was the head of what looked like a black rat snake. It had beady little eyes with round pupils and and a white scales on its belly.

"Bahamut?" the now quite normal sounding voice said. "You schmuck is that really you?" bahamut nodded to his long time very ancient friend. "Oy-vey what the hell happened to you?"

Bahamut frowned at this but before he could start with his questions samedi started laughing like a maniac. "You're… you're Jormungandr?!" samedi said between bouts of laughter as both set of eyes turned to him. "I'm sorry it's just… 'world serpent' i was just kinda expecting something… bigger?"

"Bigger?" the irate snake repeated. "Bigger. You listen here you putz. Do you know how big the world is? My head is here but my tuches is shvitzin its ass off in the Philippines. ' _Bigger'_ he says. I was wrapped around this world long before you where that bit of schmutz running down your mommas leg! And you!" he whipped his head around. "And you! How do i know you're really Baha…" the undersized serpent was cut off as bahamut let out an ungodly roar that shook the water around them from the sheer volume. It sounded like something out of a nightmare, like the sounds of a dozen different apex predators all baying for blood simultaneously. "Well i'm convinced." he dead panned.

Jorgy opened his maw like he was going to say something but Bahamut held up his finger signaling for him to wait. The ancient dragon turned schoolboy turned to the left, leaned over the side of the small boat and proceed to vomit up copious amounts of blood and lining of his throat if the fleshy bits were anything to go by. After lowering himself further into the boat and wrapping his magic around his throat to rapidly regrow his voice box. "So… " he said after a few minutes. "I've got a few questions."

The next hour consisted of a lot of questions and quite a bit of yelling. Some of the highlights included.

"what do you mean you don't know?"

"What do you mean there are six?! Why are there six?!"

"who the fuck is Nubby?"

"No there is no difference between reconditioned and refurbished."

"what do you mean 'not that far in the future?'"

"what do you mean we're past ragnarok?"

"Wait is Baldr, Nubby? I thought he was dead!"

"No Thor didn't kill me. I _did_ kill Thor though."

"Yes, that was a one off and no, i do _not_ have venom."

"No, technically all I said was that I was from the future, which was true at the time."

"No, I can't come with you!"

"Hey! Don't grab me ther... AHHHH!"

Xx

Draco glared across the slytherin table where Harry continued to eat his barely cooked steak. "Harry…" he finally ventured after glancing around at the glares his friend was receiving from the other occupants of the table. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

Harry gave draco a bemused look. "Eating?"

Daphne ran her down her face in exasperation. "No!" she practically screamed. "He meant… " she let out a slow breath "why are you eating… here?" she gestured at the table at large. "At the slytherin table."

Harry turned his head to the side, looking for all intents like a confused puppy dog. "Because i'm hungry?" he said it slowly like he was talking to a particularly slow toddler. This seemed only to infuriate Daphne as the girl started to slowly raise her knife only to have it slowly pushed back down by Pansy who didn't bother looking up from her soup. "oh! " harry chimed like he just remembered something important. "I wanted to show you my new pet!" the occupants of the table all stared a little more intently at Harry as he reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a two foot long black snake.

The occupants of the tables eyes boggled as as the snake raised its head and let out a very sarcastic sounding, very _human_ sounding. "Hiss"

The table jumped at this. Draco looked like he was about to say something when suddenly the doors to the great hall burst open and professor quirrell came storming into the great hall screaming about a troll before fainting at the foot of the faculty table. There was a pause as the hall digested what the man had said and then promptly losing it's collective shit. Soon enough Dumbledore stood from the faculty table and with a burst of magic and a booming voice soon brought order to the hall. A few moments later they were shuffling out of the hall in a nice orderly line. That is until Harry heard one of the Gryfindors say something about hermione causing him to groan and slip out of the line of Hufflepuffs.

Xx

As Bahamut wandered in the general direction of the scent of hermione and rotting meat he briefly wondered whether saving the girl was worth the hassle of dealing with a fully grown troll. The crux of the issue being that if he let the female die would it bring more or less attention to himself. Of course if he let her die he'd be down one pet and one bit of social camouflage.

That and he'd come to rely on the female to get his considerable amount of homework done what with her and the blond boys trivial rivalry. Of course it's not that probably couldn't do the work himself, after all he had forgotten more about magic than the entirety of the wizarding population put together. No, it had to do with the fact that he was far lazier than the entirety of the wizarding population put together. Nap time is practically sacred.

He discovered why he couldn't sleep shortly after that night back during the beginning of the year. As it turned out the slight bout of insomnia had been brought on by hormonal changes in his body. As it turns out wizarding puberty and primordial magic _do not_ play well together. The disgusting bodily changes compounded with the painful magical changes made for a very cranky former dragon.

As Bahamut and his posse of supernatural misfits rounded the corner they were practically knocked off their feet as the smell of rotting meat and garbage reached them. Ok, to be fair Bahamut was almost knocked off his feet what with his heightened sense of smell. Samedi threw up out a window and Jorgy wretched from his place wrapped around Bahamuts wrist."oh god!" Jorgy screamed. "It smells worse than Friggs gefilte fish!"

"For the last time" Samedi said between wretches. "There's no way you're jewish!"

Jorgy threw up over Bahamuts left shoe. "You know you're being a huge putz right now."

Seeing the hulking beast lumbering towards a bathroom bahamut had to work fast. Bracing himself for the pain he let out a low warning growl. He expected the troll to react but he hadn't expected it to have a break down in the middle of the corridor. The troll started looking around wildly for the source of the noise. Comically bumping off the walls as it did. The thing looked white as a sheet for some reason. Finally it turned and started stumbling down the hall at full tilt. Slightly panicking Bahamut relied in his instincts tossing the still retching serpent at the troll barreling towards them. With a scream and string of curses the neutered world serpent wrapped itself around the trolls neck. The troll slammed into the floor with a sickening snap. Almost as if someone had wrapped an unimaginably heavy weight around it's throat. Its huge club which had flown up into the air during the fall came down onto the trolls head with a sickening crunch.

Xx

Hey sorry for the short chapter. Just wanted to get something out for the holidays. Next chapter will basically be the major plot points for first year. How'd you like jorgy? I've been throwing around the idea of having a 'supernatural' trio instead of the normal human one for awhile now. I based him off mel brooks and most of the old jewish men I see in the park. And no he does not speak our favorite snake language. Jorgy speaks english.

Jordansdevil: I thought it was a good way to introduce a B plot… that and i've never read an HP fanfic with a bar fight that was an _actual_ bar fight.

Infinitymask: twelve reviews! Is this what popularity feels like? Seriously though those reviews mean waaay more than you probably realize.

Vizeerlord: and so you shall more of my shitty writing! Take as much as you can stomach!

Harrington21: blowing shit up is always fun to write about. And i hope your co workers think you're a loon.


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